Reunion
by Elizabeth Leah
Summary: Maggie has known who her father was for five years. When she finally confronts him, she's only given reason to hate him. But what happens when the only man who can help her and her school is her father? Takes place twenty years after the events of Changes
1. Chapter 1

The Dresden Files is copyright by Jim Butcher. This story is licensed under the Creative Commons as derivative, noncommercial fiction. And I like playing with other people's toys.

OoOoOoO

Maggie woke with a start, her heart hammering in her throat. Panting, she blinked, the dim room coming into focus. The white sheets tangled around her legs and she lay on her stomach, her upper body held up by her elbows. The candles on the mantel behind her guttered low in their holders and weak dawn light filtered through the curtained bay window to her left. The nightmare faded from her mind and all she could recall was blood, screams, and flat, black lifeless eyes. Even that faded and she didn't try to recall more.

A thump echoed through the halls of the house, quickly followed by a chorus of thumps that sounded like a herd of stampeding buffalo. With a deep sigh, Maggie kicked off the sheets. It was a new day at Wizard High.

By the time Maggie Reynolds was clean, dressed and downstairs, the students were already in their second helpings. As she entered the large dining room, the teachers on the high table at the back stood, signaling all of the children to stop what they were doing and stand as well. She hated the attention but Iantha insisted on the gesture.

"Kids need to be taught how to show respect, Mag," she'd said. "Little gestures mean a lot."

The students (all 30 of them) sat back down once Maggie sat at her chair in the high table's center. Iantha, on her right and beautiful in her green sundress, smiled at her as she poured her some coffee.

"Rough night?" she asked.

"The usual."

"Here's today's paper," said Cameron, seated on her left.

She eagerly opened it and was rewarded a few pages in with DRESDEN FOILS HEIST. A short column described how Harry Dresden managed to be in the right place in the right time to stop a bank robbery. The Chicago Police Department declined to comment. A further perusal of the paper turned up a story about the successful recovery of a child and another on the strange summer snowfall in a park. The three stories were, of course, completely unrelated.

After breakfast, she and Iantha met in her office while the rest of the teachers began their classes on mundane subjects.

Iantha watched as Maggie carefully cut out the clippings and pasted them in a bulky scrapbook taken from a locked drawer in the large oak desk.

"You are a coward," she said in her mild, Greek accent.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't hear you over the idiot insulting me."

"You have known he is your father for, what? Five years? And you have not tried to contact him."

"If he's not interested in contacting me, then I'm not—"

"Interested in contacting him. Yes. I know. And yet you keep a scrapbook of every news story he's explicitly and implicitly in. You hired that investigator to take pictures of him last year. Darling, you are obsessed and too afraid to do anything about it. And maybe he's trying to protect you, in not seeking you out. After all, he was once the Winter Knight and nearly brought Winter down on Mab's head in order to free himself from that bondage. He came back from the dead, even. He has a fearsome reputation. And the easiest way to hurt a fearsome man is to go through the ones he loves."

Maggie sat down at her chair, turning it to look out the windows into the garden. Lawrence stood out there with ten children, none older than eleven, as he taught his botany class, holding a rosebud in one hand and gesturing with the other. She sighed.

"How bad are the nightmares?" her friend asked, gently.

"Bad. I can't sleep some nights. Last night, I caught a few hours. But the nightmare woke me."

"You had me go out to learn all I could about him. Now, I think you need to go to him to find out some things about yourself."

"The school—"

"We can survive a few days without you."

"He's a Warden. That's the last thing we need right now, what with more students coming in."

"And he's defied the Wardens. He took on the Doom of Damocles for his apprentice, after having lived under it himself." Iantha cocked her head. "Now you're just making excuses."

Maggie scowled at the scrapbook open before her. A lot of bad things had happened to her. Did she really want to learn them all? Reaching out, she flipped to the photos taken of last year's investigation, revealing a painfully tall, thin man in a black duster walking in a park, another of him scowling down at a body at a crime scene, and one of him laughing uproariously next to a girl with garishly colored hair. The last one always made her jealous.

"Fine. I'll go."

Iantha grinned in triumph. "Bus or Way?"

"Way. A bus will not survive between here and Chicago." She slammed the book shut. "And you're in charge while I'm gone. You and Marianne can divvy up my class between you."

"Of course."

"And try not to burn down the house. It was a gift."


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for the read/reviews! Please keep it up!

OoOoOoO

Maggie stepped out of the Way into a back alley. The Way closed on the troll lumbering after her and she waved at it cheerily as the slit disappeared. One had to look in all sorts of places for entertainment. She pulled a map out of the deep pocket of her cargo pants. Iantha had circled in red ink where she would come out and had drawn a line outlining the best route to Dresden's office. Looking around, it occurred to her she would be traversing some not-so-good neighborhoods. But what was the point of being a wizard if you didn't get to scare a mugger once in a while?

With that cheerful thought, Maggie strode down the alley onto the sidewalk.

OoOoOoO

Michael eased to a stop at the red light. Humming tunelessly, he looked casually out the passenger side window of his truck and back out the windshield—only to do a double take.

A young woman, no more than 25 or 27, 30 at the very most, stood at the corner, patiently waiting for the light to change. She was very tall, over six feet, with black hair caught up in a braid that fell over her shoulder. She had a heart-shaped face with large, black eyes and a pale complexion. The rest of her face…

"It can't be," he muttered to himself. But the old prompting in his heart, the familiar prod in a certain direction, told him that it would be best to give this young woman lift. He obediently rolled down the window.

"Miss," he said, praying he looked nonthreatening. "Miss, are you lost?"

The woman looked like she might ignore him but finally said, "No." She waved a map. "I know where I'm going."

"Ah. The neighborhood is rough around here. Would you like a lift?"

Her eyes focused on him, dark and intense and really familiar. "I don't know you, sir. And if the neighborhood is so rough, what are you doing here?"

Oh, it has to be her, he thought. Only Harry's daughter would be so direct. "I'm a contractor," he replied. "This is the quickest way to my next job."

She studied him a moment longer. A car honked behind him. The girl shrugged and came to the side of the truck, which he unlocked, and she got in.

"Take a left, please," she said.

He did and asked, "Where are you headed?"

She read the address off to him. "It's a private investigator's office."  
>Michael knew the address but didn't say anything. He should have known something was going to happen when he chose his route on a whim. He could have gone a longer, safer way, and usually did. He suppressed the urge to smile. A retired Knight and the Almighty still had use for him.<p>

"My name is Michael Carpenter. And yours?"

She hesitated before answering. "Samantha."

"Pleased to meet you, Samantha."

Twenty minutes later, they stopped in front of Harry's office building. He toyed with the idea of going up with her but he figured Molly would get the story to him later.

"Have a good day, miss," he said, "and God bless."

The salutation made her eyes brighten a little. "You too, sir." She got out and waved goodbye before entering the building.

Putting the car in drive, he chuckled, wishing he could be a fly on that wall.

OoOoOoO

The words on the frosted glass read, "Harry Dresden, Wizard." A table beside the door displayed pamphlets with titles like, "So You Want to be a Wizard" and "What Really Happened in Salem." Knowing she was just stalling, she picked up one and looked through it without actually reading it. A door down the hall opened and an old woman tottered out. Maggie smiled at the lady, who frowned at her and limped on to the elevator. Maybe only disreputable people came to see Harry Dresden, Wizard, the sort of people that didn't meet the approval of little old ladies.

Well, nothing for it, Maggie thought. She tossed the pamphlet on the table and knocked on the door. A moment went by and the door opened. For the first time in a long time, Maggie had to look up at someone.

He looked younger in the photos but maybe that was because they were taken at a distance. Harry Dresden stood with a slight stoop, as all extremely tall people did after a while. Laugh and worry lines creased his narrow face but his hair was still coal-black. He had taken off his duster and wore a green button down shirt and jeans.

"Can I help you?" he asked, his voice rumbling up from somewhere around his toes.

"Um, uh, hi." She stuck out her hand. "Margaret Reynolds. But my friends call me Maggie."

"Harry Dresden." He reached out and took her hand, a jolt going up both their arms when their auras touched. He snatched his hand away and scowled. "Who are you?"

"Oh…uh. I'm your daughter," she blurted. She smiled brilliantly at him and, unable to help herself, faked her best Vader voice. "Search your feelings; you know it to be true."

The blood drained from Dresden's face and he stared at her. She felt her smile leak away. To her horror, tears began to burn the edges of her eyes.

"I'm sorry." Her voice came out husky and low. "I didn't mean to trouble you."

She turned away when a hand on her shoulder stopped her and, suddenly, long arms enveloped her, pressing her tightly against his chest. They stood like that for several long moments. Finally, he pulled away and she hastily wiped tears from her cheeks.

"How'd you know where to find me?" Harry asked. "Wait. Come in, first." He held the door open for her.

His office was small, mostly just a desk with two chairs facing it and a table with a pot of coffee with some mugs and powdered cream and sugar arranged around it. Black file cabinets sat along the back wall.

"Please, have a seat." He held out a chair for her and she sat, a little surprised at the gesture. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Cream? Sugar?"

"No. Just black."

Silence filled the room while Harry busied himself with the coffee. It was almost comical; he nearly had to bend double to reach everything on the table.

"Do you hit your head on door frames often?" she asked,

His lips quirked. "Not after the first instance of brain damage." He set her mug on the desk in front of her and sat in the chair beside her, cradling a cup in his hands that read in white lettering on black: "I'm not so good on advice. May I interest you in a sarcastic comment?"

Curious, she looked at hers. It was white with a rainbow in the background and read, "I'm so happy, I could shit rainbows." She snickered and turned to him, her father. He studied her with dark eyes, his expression unreadable.

"How did you find me?" he asked again, his voice calm and serious with a hint of something darker. It suddenly occurred to her that he may not trust her right off the bat.

Well, wasn't that lovely…though a little understandable.

"I was adopted by a woman named Elspeth Reynolds, outside of Athens, Georgia, when I was eight years old. But I didn't know that then. She was just Aunt Elspeth. I didn't find out I was adopted until I was 14, when I got so angry over a boy, I made every light on the first floor blow out. Aunt Elspeth told me the truth, then, but she didn't know who my parents were. The Church wouldn't tell her. She got a man named Bartholomew to come teach me magic but he wouldn't let me go before the White Council for my Trial when I was twenty. He said I knew everything he could teach me, and more besides, and it would do me well to avoid the White Council and all Wardens. But he wouldn't tell me why." She clenched her hands and took a deep, steadying breath against the tide of anger. That didn't help, so she sipped some coffee and clutched the mug in both hands.

"When I was 19," she continued, "I met a girl named Iantha Kostas and she was on the run. The Wardens were after her because she broke one of the Laws of Magic, but it had been an accident. They weren't going to believe her, though. We went to my master for help, but he wouldn't. He said it would be all of our lives if they found out we had harbored a warlock." A bitter laugh shook her shoulders. "Iantha cries when we kill rabbits for meat. Some warlock, right? Anyway, I helped Iantha to hide in a cottage in the back of our property. After Bartholomew declared me proficient and took off for some tower in Europe, Iantha and I decided to do something about this 'kill it if it screws up' policy of the White Council. But right before we took our plan to Aunt Elspeth, she died. It was quite sudden. She laid down for a nap and never woke up."

Her mind went back to that moment, in Aunt's darkened room, and the feel of cooling flesh beneath her fingertips. The memory faded, and Harry nodded at her to go on.

"After that, we decided to go ahead with it."

"With what?"

She smiled at him ruefully. "You're a Warden, right? I shouldn't tell you."  
>Anger clouded his face. "I'm your father."<p>

"A father who wasn't there." The words struck him and he looked away and for a brief moment, Maggie thought she saw tears. "Five years ago, I came across a young woman with a child who was helped by you. Lauren Weathers?"

He nodded. "There was a curse on the family. I helped break it."

"She left her daughter Emily with me. Well, more like abandoned her. But before she left, she said I bore a remarkable resemblance to a wizard P.I. named Harry Dresden. After some research, and threatening several clergymen, I got it confirmed that you're my father."

A grin pulled at Harry's lips. "You threatened clergymen?"

She shrugged. "Hey, I didn't want to. They were the ones refusing to talk. I went to confession afterward."

He shook his head. "Why now?"

"We decided that maybe it was too dangerous for me to keep poking my nose around, so my friend Iantha went and did it for me. She told me about you exterminating the Red Court and rising from the dead and getting away from Mab. But no mention of a daughter…or my mother. My nightmares got worse and she wouldn't leave me alone about it. She said maybe you could tell me why—what I'm trying to remember." She looked at him. "What happened with my mother? Why didn't you raise me?"

He looked away, setting his coffee mug on the desk and reaching up to rub his jaw, his eyes distant and unfocused. For a long while, he said nothing. "It happened when we killed the Red Court vampires. They were holding you hostage. They were…going to kill you to curse our family."

A shudder went through her as she suddenly remembered a ziggurat rising out of a dense jungle and sick laughter in her ears. Her stomach twisted. Maggie wanted to cover her ears, suddenly, but she couldn't move.

"Your mother…her name was Susan." He smiled, suddenly, and it lit up his face. "She was a great woman. But…I, ah. A lot of bad things happened, Maggie. We were just trying to do our best."

A chill settled inside of her. "What happened?"

"She became half-vampire because she wanted a story—she was a journalist—and I was too damn stubborn to tell her everything. And when they took you, we got to you and turned the curse back on them but…I had to kill her to do it. She wanted it but…I killed her. Afterward, I had the Church place you. I said I didn't want to know where you were because it would be best. It would keep you safe."

Maggie stared at him a long moment, the tide of rage threatening to wash over her. "You." She choked on the word and swallowed hard. "You killed my mom? You…son of a bitch." The chair crashed to the floor as she jerked herself to her feet and threw the mug as hard as she could. It shattered on the wall behind him. He didn't move as she left his office. He didn't follow her as she stumbled down the hall, half-blind with tears, into the stairwell.

She was alone when she sat down on the stairs and cried.


	3. Chapter 3

Iantha stood on the steps of the mansion as the rickety old bus chugged up the drive and turned in the cul de sac, coming to a stop in front of her in a cloud of fumes. The gases caught at her throat and she covertly coughed behind her hand. The door to the bus creaked open.

Tugging at her formal robes (always good to make a powerful first impression), she strode forward and stepped onto the bus. Five very frightened faces regarded her. The driver, Oliver, rolled his eyes at her clothing but she ignored him as she looked at the new students. Three boys and two girls, the youngest appearing to be only eight and the eldest around fifteen. They had an almost sameness about them in the shabbiness of their attire and they all had that "don't look at me" cast in their eyes. Street children.

"I am Iantha Kostas, Deputy Headmistress. Welcome to the Reynold's School of Magic. You are here because you have an aptitude for magic and you must learn how to control it if you hope to survive. Our rules are very simple. First, you must obey all of the Laws of Magic while here. Our headmistress, Margaret Reynolds, likes to think of our school as the School of Second Chances. Unfortunately, we are not the school of third, fourth, and fifth chances. We will be teaching the laws to you and you will learn the consequences of breaking them.

"Second rule, you do not speak of this school to anyone. The cover story is that we are a group home. The punishment for breaking that rule is that you can be stripped of the privilege of going into town on special trips.

"Third rule, you are not allowed in the lab alone except with special permission. Fourth rule, this is your home; treat it as such. Fifth and final rule, you are not allowed to summon anything." Her eyes swept over the bus. "Especially not Santa."

The kids looked at each other quizzically and one of the children hesitantly raised his hand. "Don't you mean Satan?" he asked.

"No. I mean Santa. Please follow me." She winked at Oliver, who grinned and waved, and stepped off the bus.

Iantha waited at the top of the steps until the children had collected their things and debarked. "Line up in front of me, youngest to oldest." She pulled out a file folder from under her robes as the kids scrambled around. Opening it, she read, "Katherine Milton."

"Yes, ma'am," said the eight year old.

Iantha knelt. "Look at me, sweetheart."

And so she began to have a soul gaze with each of the children. She saw various things: mirrors reflecting various futures, paths surrounded by dead flowers branching off in several directions. Each child had broken one of the Laws in some way, and that left its mark, with the eight year old being the exception. A member of the ParaNet had discovered she had magical parentage and it was deemed she belonged in the school. She had not shown any magical inclination, but it was there, in the form of diamonds in the rough packed between mirrors in a long, sunlit hall.

"Paul Reims," she said at last. The fifteen year old nodded sullenly. "Look at me, Paul." His eyes flicked away. "Paul, you cannot enter our home until I have had a soul gaze with you. Do you know what a soul gaze is?"

"No. But I know I won't like it."

"A soul gaze allows me to see you for who you really are, and lets me know if I can trust you. This is your chance at a better life, Paul. I advise that you take it."

Slowly, the boy brought his eyes up, she locked hers with his—and saw death.

OoOoOoO

I sat staring at the open door, feeling like an ass. There might have been a better way of telling my daughter I had murdered her mother, but none had come to mind. Now she was gone again. And it was probably for the best.

I stood and put my hand on the door as I heard her go out the door leading to the stairs. I was going to close the door. I swear.

"Dammit," I muttered, striding out into the hall and following my daughter.

My daughter. Last time I saw her, she was in the arms of Murphy. The Church had placed her, I knew that. Seemed like she'd grown up well. She talked like she had an education and her clothes weren't from a thrift store. She was doing a hell of a lot better than if I had raised her.

I paused outside the stairwell door. She wouldn't want to talk to me. But let it never be said that Harry Dresden left well enough alone.

She looked up as I shoved open the door, tears streaking her mascara. If an ass had an ass, I was it.

"Maggie," I said, "let me explain."

She jumped to her feet. "What the hell is there to explain? You murdered my mom!"

A thousand cliches jumped to mind. You'll understand when you're older? Hell, she had to be close to thirty, now. It was complicated? Was it, really? Susan had become a monster at my own prompting and I killed her. That didn't sound complicated at all.

It sounded like a classic case of FUBAR.

"Do you know what a Red Court vampire is?" I challenged. "No, of course not, because they're extinct now. Because of your mom. She wanted me to do it. It was the last thought in her head while it was still a little human. She died because she didn't want you to grow up afraid of monsters!"

"I ALREADY DID!" The words echoed down the stairwell. "I already did...and I still do."

Holy shit, had she been old enough to remember? "You mentioned nightmares."

She crossed her arms over her stomach. "I can't sleep without a candle or something burning. And even then they come."

"Maggie, I'm sorry."

"Those words aren't going to bring my mom back."

"No." I took a hesitant step forward, letting the door close behind me. "Give me a chance, please. I'm not going to ask you to forgive me. Just...give me a chance."

"I-"

"Maggie, where are you?"

I jumped a little at the sudden voice. Cool, calm, and collected, that's me. The voice was a woman's, with a faint Greek accent.

"Sorry," Maggie said, blanching. "I have to take this." She pulled her knapsack off her shoulder, reached in, and drew out an obsidian rock with a flat side. Straightening, she pressed it against her ear. "What is it, Iantha? I'm kind of busy." She listened. "You're kidding. Are you sure? Okay. Well, isolate him from the others. I'll be there as soon as I can." And she pulled the rock from her ear.

A wizard's cell phone. Magic rocks, sometimes. No pun intended. Okay, maybe a little.

"I have to go," she said. And she turned and ran down the stairs.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: Okay, I went back and did a little bit of a re-write and a re-plot. For those who are following my story, it'd probably be best to go back and took a second look at the end of Chapter 3. See? Reviewing works! Keep 'em coming!_

OoOoOoO

I returned to my office feeling like a little black cloud was following me. Hello, my name is Eeyore.

Closing the door behind me, I began cleaning up the shards of broken mug and mopping up the spilled coffee. Good thing I never tried to decorate the place. Ever since the Red Court blew up my last office, it's been really hard to put any investment in my new place, even though that was a long time ago. All of my files were backed up in a separate location and some days, I really had to fight the urge to check the walls for explosives.

It's not really paranoia if they are out to get you.

I just finished cleaning when my phone rang. Oh, lovely. This could not possibly be bad news.

"Dresden."

"Harry, it's Michael. Everything okay?" His voice sounded muffled and in the background, I heard the whine of a saw.

"Oh, you know how it is. Unicorns and rainbows."

"Uh-huh. Your mood wouldn't have anything to do with your daughter visiting?"

"How the hell-heck do you know anything about that?"

"I gave her a lift to your office."

Of course he did. "The Almighty still has you as His errand boy?"

Michael chuckled. "I guess so. I take it things didn't go well?"

"She threw a coffee mug at me."

"Was there coffee in it?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sure everything will turn out all right. Have faith, my friend."

"Whatever. You better hang up before your cell phone cuts out."

"I-" The line fizzled and went dead.

No, I didn't do that on purpose. Really. I hung up the phone and sat at my desk, wondering what else could possibly go wrong today.

OoOoOoO

Maggie came out of the NeverNever in a dead run. She jumped over rows of flowers, coming to a stop next to the koi pond, around which were huddled frightened students and teachers. Bracing her hands against her knees, she tried to catch her breath.

"Margaret," said Oliver, "Iantha is inside with him."

"Where-?"

"The punishment room."

She straightened. "Come with me." Breaking out into another run, Maggie headed for the house, barely stopping to open the door. Oliver slammed it shut behind her and they took the stairs two at a time.

The punishment room was a room covered in wards and spells that had a dampening affect on magic. They used it as a sort of time-out, ever since one kid nearly took out the greenhouse in a fit of pique. Just as they reached the landing of the third floor, the house shook and she heard Iantha scream.

Shitshitshitshit, she thought as she hauled herself up to the fourth floor and pelted down the hall. The ceiling was on fire.

"Oliver!"

The man wrenched open the door to a bathroom and, with a whisper of Gaelic, broke open a pipe. Water streamed out and he directed it onto the flames. Smoke billowed through the hall.

Coughing, Maggie dropped to her knees and crawled down to the punishment room. Her hand touched something soft. Closer inspection showed it was Iantha and she still lived. The smoke began to clear as wind swept through and pushed it out of a broken window. Looking up, she saw that the door to the room had been broken outward. A quick search proved it to be empty.

"Oliver," she yelled, "organize a search party." She pointed to the broken window. "Search the grounds and then the house."

He nodded and sprinted back down the hall. Maggie knelt next to her friend.

"Oh, Iantha," she said, "what have I gotten us into?"

OoOoOoO

A search turned up nothing. Paul had gotten away.

"This is a disaster," said Oliver. "We should have never let those children on the premises without soul gazing them first. Waiting until they are already here-"

"We know, Oliver," snapped Maggie. "We don't need to hear it again."

Maggie and the teachers were in Iantha's room. Iantha sat up in the bed, pale and wan, propped up against many pillows. It was night and all the children were in bed.

"What are we going to do?" asked the math and potions teacher, Isolde.

"Did the boy leave anything of his behind?"

"His back pack," said Iantha.

"Then maybe there will be something there that will help us track him."

"And then what?" asked Lawrence. "Administer the Council's form of justice? We made this place to combat such idiocy."

"From what Iantha has told me about what she saw, we may not have any other choice."

"Has anyone even tried to reason with the boy? He probably reacted the way he did out of fear."

"He reacted," said Iantha, "the way he did when I did try to reason with him. After I spoke to Maggie, and had cleared everyone out, I took him to the punishment room to have a talk with him. Everything seemed to be going all right until we got to his past. He...flew into a crazed rage and nearly brought the roof down on us." She smiled wearily. "I'm sorry, Maggie. I know you told me not to burn the house down."

Maggie sat next to her and took her hand. "And you didn't. Don't worry about it. It isn't anything we can't fix."

"I know what we should do," spoke up another teacher.

"What, Rose?"

"We should call Harry Dresden."

Everyone stared at her like she had lost her mind.

Lawrence said, "Harry Dresden, the ex-Winter Knight? Harry Dresden, _the Warden_? My God, Rose, most of the Council is terrified of the man."

"Yes, but look at all the good he has done. And all of our contacts on the ParaNet, which he founded, have been urging us to make him an ally. We are going to be found out by the Council, one day. Either because of this boy or because of some other student or because of someone who just got curious after hearing some rumors. I think, at this point, we have run out of options. Dresden is a private investigator, who has lots of experience finding people, and being a Warden means he has lots of experience with warlocks. He has the knowledge and experience we do not have. We need him." She crossed her arms, jutting her jaw out stubbornly.

Maggie thought back to her trip to his office and their argument. Anger and bitterness stirred inside of her as she remembered the horrible truth handed to her, the reason for her nightmares. Iantha's hand squeezed hers. Maggie realized everyone was staring at her, waiting for her decision. She took a deep breath.

"Anyone else have an opinion?" She was just stalling, putting it off. But if no one else had a better idea...?

No one answered. No one had a better idea. For a crazy moment, she seriously considered finding the boy herself and dealing with the matter. But it was too great of a risk. The school needed her. The school was bigger than her problems, her feelings. Lives were at stake.

"So, we are agreed?" Maggie said. "We'll contact Harry Dresden?"

One by one, the teachers reluctantly nodded, except for Lawrence.

"This is a terrible idea," he said.

"Do you know for certain you can find Paul and defeat him? Iantha is one of the strongest wizards here and he knocked her for a loop. Can you do better?"

He was silent for a long moment before finally dropping his eyes and shaking his head.

"Then it's settled. I'll go into Chicago immediately."

"Do you know where to find him?" asked Rose.

Maggie thought about the pained, distraught look on Dresden's face when she walked away from him, presumably for the last time. "No. But I think I know where to start."


	5. Chapter 5

Only one other person occupied a table at Mac's. I gave him the conspiratorial nod of one drunk to another. He ignored me. Oh, well. Technically, being I was only on beer number four, I wasn't drunk, yet. I chugged back the rest of Mac's dark ale and went for another.

Mac set an opened bottle on the bar and frowned at me.

"Hard day at the office," I said.

"Keys," he replied.

"Sure, why not." I handed over the keys to my Jeep (the Blue Beetle died a watery death after a confrontation with the Kraken (long story)).

His head turned and eyes fixated on the door. Looking over my shoulder, I froze.

Maggie stepped inside, letting the door close behind her as her eyes took in the bar. When they landed on me, she began walking over.

"Another for the lady, Mac," I said. "It's on me."

Mac grunted and got another out.

"Didn't think I'd see you again," I said.

"Well, circumstances change," she replied, her voice low-pitched like her mother's. It made my heart clench.

"What sort of circumstances?"

She looked around. "I don't know if this is the best place for this."

"This is a safe place. Mac is trustworthy. The other guy, I'm not sure is conscious."

"All right."

"You drink beer?"

"Yeah."

I handed her her bottle. "Then prepare to be wowed."

I led her back to the table, where I held the chair for her while she sat. I took the chair across from her.

"So," I said. "How'd you know where to find me?"

"You looked ready to go have a good drink when I left you."

"Ah." I watched as she sipped the ale, her eyebrows going up appreciatively. "So. Circumstances."

"I know you're a Warden, Dresden. If you betray us, I will end you."

"A lot of wizards have said that."

"From what I understand, it won't take magic. Just a high powered rifle."

About twenty years ago, an assassin took me out. I came back as a ghost and caught him. Another a long story.

"You can trust me, Maggie."

"It's not like I have have much choice. Our options have shrunk to nearly nil."

I nodded and tried to look like a good listener. "Go on."

"Remember how earlier today, I said my friend Iantha and I had a plan to help those hunted by the Council for something they did out of ignorance or for survival?"

"Yeah."

"The solution we came up with was a school. Part of the reason why so many warlocks being kids that slipped through the cracks is a lack of resources. Just made sense to pool said resources."

"So, you run a school of witchcraft and wizardry?"

"...Yes."

I took that in, my brain almost whirring with implications. "Do you divide the students into houses? Do you live in a castle? Do you have a hippogriff? Tell me you have a hippogriff."

She sighed. "No, no and no. Can we move on?"  
>"Sure."<p>

"We began using your ParaNet to find wizards operating under the Council's radar to act as teachers. Then, it was a matter of finding students. It wasn't hard. At first, we only took in those whose magic has already come in, but we've already been saddled with a couple of very young children who have magical parentage but were abandoned."

"How many do you have?"

"34. A new group came in just today. It was going to be 35 but...there was a problem."

"That call you received?"

She nodded. "We soul gaze all the children coming in. During the eight years the school has been in operation, we have not come upon someone we could call a warlock. Until today."

"That's a problem."

She leaned forward. "He got away. If he causes damage, or kills someone, and the White Council traces it back to us, we are all dead."

The image of a house full of the headless corpses of children and their teachers chased away whatever buzz Mac's ale had given me. "Hell's freakin' bells."

She reached into the pocket of her pants and pulled out a small plastic baggie. She laid it on the table. "We can pay whatever fee you want to charge."

I picked up the baggie and looked at the hair inside before focusing on her. "I won't charge my daughter," I said in a low voice. "But I do have a condition."

"Name it."

"When this is over, there's someone I want you to talk to."

"Why?"  
>"Perspective."<p>

She studied me for a long moment. "Fine."

"Where's the school?"

"Outside of Athens, Georgia."

"We'll have to go there. My tracing spell won't work at this distance."

"Are you ready to go now?"  
>"I'll need to go by my place first."<p>

"Great. Lets go."

"Okay. But do you drive a stick?"

OoOoOoO

Turns out, she could. I was probably all right to drive but I've learned a long time ago to not tempt fate.

After a fire took out my home and the majority of my belongings, I had to start over from scratch once I had fully rejoined the land of the living (so to speak). Michael helped by locating another basement apartment. Molly raided every secondhand and thrift store in the area. And Thomas had given me a loan. Which I never paid back. He doesn't bring it up so often. In fact, I don't see much of my older Raith brother all that often anymore.

So, imagine my surprise when we pull into the parking lot of the boarding house and there's Thomas's shiny Mercedes with Thomas artfully leaning against it. He raised a pale hand and started walking over to us as we got out of the vehicle.

"Harry," he said, "how are you? Isn't she kind of young?"

"What? Oh. She's not my date."

"Uh-huh." He smiled charmingly at Maggie as she began to round the Jeep. When she got into the light and he had a good look at her, the smile faded. "Shit."

"Thomas, you know Maggie. She came into town just today. And now we're going out of town."

But my brother acted like he didn't hear me. He took a quick step forward and embraced Maggie. I jerked forward to separate them but Thomas was already stepping away.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Thomas Raith, the bonehead's brother."

"My _uncle_? But the Raiths are vampires..."

"Half-uncle," I said, trying to be helpful. Thomas shot me a venomous look. Okay, maybe not so helpful, then.

Maggie shook her head. "This is...too much. We need to get going."

"Where to? Maybe I can help?"

"No," I said, firmly. Ever since Thomas had rejoined House Raith, his control hadn't been as fine as it used to be. A house of hormonal teens was the very last place on the planet I wanted him. "You'll have to sit this out. What's up, though? You haven't been around in a while."

Thomas look distant and little pained. "It can wait until you get back. You'll tell me what's going on?"

"Sure."

He nodded. "It was good seeing you again, Maggie." And he gave her a peck on the cheek before she could pull away.

I remembered, suddenly, as he walked back to the car, how shocked he'd been when I told him I had a daughter. I realized I wasn't the only one who missed Maggie. Or, at least the idea of her.

"What did he mean?" she asked. "About seeing me again?"

"He was one of the ones that helped rescue you."

"So, he knew my mom?"

"Not very well. But he could pick her out of a photo album, sure."

"Oh."

"Come on." I waved at Thomas as he drove away and led her down to my basement apartment. Yeah, I know. I could've gotten better. But I like basements. And this one had a sub-basement, too, which was nice. As long as I don't piss anyone off enough to firebomb the place, I should be fine.

It was a little bigger than my last apartment and had two bedrooms. The kitchen was more a real kitchen, though tiny. It had a fireplace, thin carpeting, and instead of a trap door leading into a sub-basement, there was a door to one side opening to a set of stairs. As we came in, a mountain of a dog ambled up and wagged his tail.

"This is Mouse," I said. "Mouse, you remember Maggie."

Mouse made a wuffling noise and butted Maggie's hips with his shoulders. She smiled and petted him. For a brief moment, I thought about Mister, who'd died just last year of old age.

"Make yourself at home," I said, nodding at the couches and chairs arranged around the fireplace. "I just need to pack a few bags and make some phone calls."

"Okay." She wandered away and began browsing my bookshelves, Mouse following her.

First, I called Murphy. She was not happy.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me she came by today?" she demanded.

I sighed. "I'm telling you now."

She muttered a few choice oaths.

"You can hurt me when I get back."

"I'm going with you."

"Like hell you are." Fifty year old Murphy was formidable. But just last week, she was almost taken out by a really nasty demon. If I took her along, I'd be too busy trying to protect her than fighting the warlock. "You stay home and nurse that knee."

"Fine."

"Just take in my mail for me, please?"

"Fine."

Oh, God. Two "fines". One more and the Wicked Witch of the West was going to land a house on top of me. "I'll call you in the morning, Murph."

"Be careful, Harry."

"Aren't I always?" And with that reassuring remark, I hung up and then called Molly.

"What's up, Harry?" she asked, bouncy and jovial as ever. Never mind that it's nearly midnight. When I called Murph, I woke her.

"I'm going out of town on some business. Mouse is coming with me and Murphy is getting my mail."

"So, what do you need me to do?"

"Tell your dad she came back. He'll know what you're talking about."

There was a pause. "Harry, what's going on?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to give you a heads-up, in case you came looking for me."

"Okay. Well. Safe trip."

"Thanks." I hung up and immediately wondered why I called her. Ever since Molly went from apprentice to full-fledged wizard, I began slowly seeing her as more of a peer than my friend's daughter. I stoutly told myself not to be a dirty old man and went into my bedroom to throw a few days worth of clothes into a duffle.

Then, I went down into my lab and, with a whisper, lit the candles. It looked like my old lab, except a little tidier, and the silver and copper circle was a little bigger. On the table running down the center was a large model of Chicago in pewter. Yep, I have a voodoo doll of the city.

"Wakey-wakey, sleepy bones," I said.

A skull on a wooden shelf, flanked by candles and romance novels, seemed to shift as little flames appeared in the eye sockets. He yawned. "'lo, Harry. What's today's crisis?"

"I don't have a crisis every day."

"Close to it. So, what's up?"

"I'm going out of town for a little."

"Oh, that doesn't sound ominous _at all_."

I related to him the day's events and everything Maggie had told me as I put together a bag of things I might need.

"Let me take that back," Bob said. "That's not ominous. That's a high-grade catastrophe in the building. Steer clear, Harry."

I looked up from weighing two jars in my hands, trying to decide which would be better to take. "She's my daughter, Bob. I have to help her."

"She doesn't need to be your daughter. You'd help her anyway."

Couldn't argue with that. "I'm doing it."

"If the Council found out-"

"That's the point. To do this so they don't find out."

"And if they do?"

"We'll burn that bridge when we get there."

"I hate it when you start talking about burning things. We need to have a discussion about your pyromania. Have you considered professional help?"

I scowled at Bob and threw a pencil at him, bouncing it off his forehead. "Stay on point."

"Does she have nice boobs?"

"Bob!"

"I'm just asking. From what I recall, Susan had some nice knockers."

I stopped packing and, pinching my nose, focused on my breathing for a minute. I reminded myself of all the times Bob had proved to be incredibly useful and those were reason enough not to crush his skull into powder.

"Am I coming?" he asked.

"No."

"You might need me."

I stopped. Ah, hell. "Fine."

"Just don't leave me in a secret compartment on a boat. That got boring, fast."

"Yeah, yeah. You're lucky I just don't throw you down a well." But I got Bob, shoved him into the bag with more force than necessary, and rejoined my daughter in the living room.

"Ready when you—Oh."

Maggie looked up from a photo she was holding. "Who's this?"

I set the bag with my duffel before coming to stand beside her. "That's Susan. I took that photo before..."

"Before what?"

I took the picture from her, the memories rolling over me. In the end, even if Susan had never become a half-vampire, it still wouldn't have worked out. Wizards outlive non-wizards by hundreds of years. It's what kept Murphy from getting serious with me.

But Maggie would have still grown up with her mother.

"It's a long story," I said.

"And we don't have much time. With every moment, Paul is getting further away. But you'll tell me?"

"I'll tell you."


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note: First, thank you for all the great reviews and encouragement! Second, I will be going out of town for most of next week. I will try to have one or two more chapters up by then and if I can post, I will, but I cannot promise anything. And, in case I forget, Happy Fourth!_

OoOoOoO

Harry brought them back a different way. He frowned, stroked his pentacle, and said he knew a non-troll way of getting back to the school. His Way felt eerie and creepy, with dark, towering trees and funny whispering sounds, but nothing tried to eat them. Maggie wondered how he knew and asked.

"Oh, just a trick I picked up," he said mysteriously as they stepped through the tear he made and onto the front drive of the school.

"Knowing how to get to one place to another like that is not a trick," she replied tartly. He only smiled. She sighed and led him to the front steps, where she stopped. "Listen. Don't let on that you're a Warden."

"If the kids have heard of me..."

"Then we'll deal with it then. But, for now, you're just Harry Dresden, Wizard P.I., okay?"

"Sure. Sure."

She went up a couple more steps, then stopped again. "And don't go wandering around alone in the house too much. The corridors can be a little confusing sometimes."

"Gotcha. No wandering alone."

She nodded, went up a few more steps, then stopped a third time. "Oh, and-"

"Keep hands and feet in the vehicle at all times?"

She scowled at him. "I was going to say, we're keeping our relationship a secret."

The slight smirk vanished from his face. "All right. It's probably for the best."

"I mean, I noticed you weren't exactly falling all over yourself to introduce me as your daughter."

His face hardened. "It's for your safety."

"And not yours? The best way to a formidable man is through...his family, right?"

He shook his head and strode past her. She jogged forward to get pass him, pulling out her keys as she went.

"There are wards," she said. "I'll need to disarm them."

He waited patiently while she did and held the door open for her after she unlocked it. He let out a low whistle as he followed her inside.

The main hall bisecting the house was large and impressive, with a gigantic chandelier hanging over them as they came in. A staircase swept in a curve, spiraling as it went up through the floors. Closed and open doors led off from the hall before them. To their immediate right was an archway through which led a large parlor.

"Nice," he said. "And this you inherited from Auntie Elspeth?"

"Yep. Come. They're waiting for us."

She led him down the hall and through a door into a billiards room, complete with billiards table. The teachers stood at their entrance. Isolde closed the door behind them and, with a whisper, soundproofed the room so no nosey student could listen in.

"Everyone," Maggie said, "this is Harry Dresden."

"Yo," he said.

She fought the urge to kick him. "Where's the back pack?"

Lawrence set it on the billiards table. "We haven't messed with it besides getting that hair from the comb."

Harry nodded and, setting his own things aside, began to carefully lay out the items within the back pack. A couple of notebooks, a drawing pad, the comb, and two crumbled pieces of paper, which he carefully smoothed out on the green felt. Picking up one notebook, he began flipping through it.

About half-way through, he said, "Isn't it a school night?"

"We're going to take care of this tonight, Mr. Dresden," snapped Lawrence.

"All of you? Who's going to stay to babysit?"

Before Lawrence could think of something else to say, Maggie interrupted. "Everyone except Isolde and Lawrence, go on to bed. We'll let you know what happens at a special meeting in the morning."

Slowly, everyone filed out, wishing Maggie a goodnight as they passed. Soon, only the four of them remained behind.

"Shouldn't," said Isolde, "you do the tracking spell right away?"

"I need a feel for the kid," Harry replied. "Don't want to go running in blind. I mean, I could. But it'd be messy." He looked up, curious and innocent. "Unless you want messy?"

Lawrence threw up his hands in disgust. "How much is he charging us, because I think we're being taken in?"

Harry scowled and opened his mouth for a scathing reply when Maggie, once again, interrupted. "Mr. Dresden is kind enough to offer his services free of charge."

"Why?"

Setting the notebook back down and reaching for the other, Harry said, "I'm a sucker for a pretty face."

That mental image shut everyone up as Dresden went through the rest of evidence.

"I don't need the spell," he said after examining everything.

"I don't understand," said Maggie.

"This is his journal." He held up the red notebook and set it down. "According to it, he has a girlfriend, whose hair he likes to braid and he uses...this." He held up the comb.

"Then track the girlfriend."

"Wait. I'm not done." He picked up one of the slips of paper. "This is a receipt for a Huddle House. Breakfast for two. Probably him and the girl."

"So?" snapped Lawrence.

"Not finished." He set the slip down and picked up the other. "This is another receipt for a Taco Bell. Same street. Same day."

"I don't get the connection."

Maggie spoke up. "The only reason why you'd have two meals on the same street on the same day is if you live nearby."

Harry said, "Probably on that street."

"Great," said Lawrence, stretching out the word. "Now do the tracking spell."

Harry handed the slip to Maggie. "Do you know that street?"

She looked at the address and sighed. "Yes."

"Any apartments?"

"No. But there is an abandoned building."

"There. I found him."

Lawrence laughed scornfully. "You've proven nothing."

"A scared kid? He'll go where it's comfortable. Safe. He's with the girl."  
>"I can't believe we're wasting our time like this."<p>

"Hey. You invited me here. You wanted my expertise. Here it is. Take it or leave it." He snatched the receipt from Maggie and slapped it on the table.

Silence filled the room. Finally, she said, "Everyone, get ready. We're leaving as soon as possible. Lawrence, you coming?"

At first, it looked like he was going to say no, but after a tense moment, he nodded.

"All right. Lets do this. Lets go get a warlock."


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: Again, thanks for the reviews! I'm going out of town today, so most likely there won't be anything new until the weekend. Sowwy...  
><em>

OoOoOoO

For the record, I did not like this. Hang around magic long enough, you develop a nose for all its variations. The moment we stepped out of the car, I knew something was wrong. I scowled at the abandoned building at the end of the block.

Maggie came to stand beside me. "There's an alley that cuts beside the building. We can slip in that way."

"Sounds good."

"Anything we should know?"

"About?"

She shrugged. "I've never actually gone after a warlock before. Or anyone, for that matter."

I looked down at her and thought if I had raised her, she would have seen a lot more death by then. My eyes drifted to the sword hanging from her waist. The runes on my staff glowed a subtle blue.

"Just follow my lead," I said, "and keep your head. I'll-"  
>"Are we going to do this?" asked Lawrence sharply, slamming shut the driver's side door.<p>

Wasn't he chipper. Lifting my staff, I lead the way down the street, wondering if I was leading sheep to the slaughter. We passed the Taco Bell and I glanced in, seeing a family eating dinner and laughing. I looked away.

We reached the building and cut down the alley. It dead-ended with a wooden fence. A rickety fire escape crawled up the building's side. With a whispered word, my staff glowed brighter and I saw a half-opened window halfway up. I took out my blasting rod.

"Stay behind me," I said. "We take this nice and slow. Don't kill with magic. We need to detain him. Maybe I can get him to the Senior Council and there won't be too many questions."

"And if we can't detain him?" asked Isolde.

"Then we kill him," replied Maggie, her hand on the hilt of her sword.

The tension ratcheted up a notch. Okey-dokey, then. Clenching the rod between my teeth, I led the way up the fire escape, the metal and wood creaking beneath my feet and hands. The staff was not helping.

I peeked through the half-open window. I couldn't see anything in the dark room, but the door was open. Dim light illumined the hall beyond. Easing a long leg through the window, I felt around with my foot and felt solid floor. I managed to get the rest of me through without much noise. I helped the two women through but Lawrence glared at me. I backed up and he made a nice thump coming through. Nice and graceful, that's the trick. I tensed, listening for sound, but all was quiet.

I held up a hand and slipped up to the door. Looking out, I saw the light source came from a room further down the hall. A shadow moved.

I looked over my shoulder and held up one finger, tilting my head toward the room. Maggie nodded. I noticed Lawrence looked drawn and pale, sweat beading on his forehead. Oh, this was getting better and better.

I gestured for them to follow and crept up the hall, trying each step before trusting my weight. Slow and easy. An eternity later, I reached the doorway and looked through.

What I saw ran my blood cold. I drew back.

Maggie mouthed the word "what". I licked my lips.

In that room was a boy. Paul, I assumed. He was brushing hair. Of a corpse. A bloating, decaying corpse tied to a chair.

This was just getting better and better.

"Only one," I mouthed. "On three." I held up my hand. One. Two. Three.

I charged through the door, aimed my rod, and cried, "Forzare!"

The boy flew back, slamming into the wall. The others came into the room and I heard Isolde gasp behind me. Paul stumbled to his feet, raising a thick, heavy rod, his mouth forming a word. From behind, Lawrence half-screamed and fire lanced out, catching the ceiling as it arced past.

Maggie screamed. My arm flared with pain. The boy dashed to the side, lashing out with magic. Rage filled me and with a growl, I flung the boy against the wall again.

Paul responded, green light shaped in a ball flashing toward me. I held up my shield bracelet and the ball splashed over me. I heard running feet going away, down the hall. Someone was dousing the flames with water. Isolde or Maggie.

He came at me again, his mouth twisted in a savage grin. I dropped my rod, drew my Colt, and shot him. Point-blank. Blood splashed onto the wall behind him as he dropped to his knees.

"I didn't mean to," he choked, blood dribbling out of his mouth. "It was an accident. I...loved her." He toppled over, dead.

"Mr. Dresden!"

Isolde knelt beside Maggie. The fire raged uncontrolled. I snatched up the rod, shoving it into a pocket as I knelt beside Maggie, my hands fumbling for her throat. My body almost sagged with relief when I found a pulse and I tucked my arms under her.

"The fire escape," I cried, lifting her.

We stumbled down the hall and out onto the escape. I turned Maggie so I could drape her over my shoulder.

"Carry my staff," I said. "I need both hands."

How we made it down that old fire escape alive, I don't know. As we came out to the end of the alley, Lawrence pulled up in the beat-up Chevy we came in. He stared at us, wide-eyed and afraid.

"Get in," I barked, taking the back seat, cradling Maggie in my lap. Once Isolde was in, I yelled, "Go! Go!"

Lawrence hit the gas and we bolted down the road, sirens blaring behind us. I looked down at my little girl and felt rage nibbling at the edge of my mind.

I looked up and saw Lawrence staring at me in the rear-view mirror. "Keep your eyes on the damn road," I growled.

He did. We didn't say anything more on the ride. I counted my daughter's breaths.


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: I had a great trip and am back ready to finish this story. Thank you all for your encouraging remarks. But if anyone sees anything that could be done better, or has any constructive criticism, don't hesitate to review._

OoOoOoO

We screeched into the school garage a few hours before dawn and Isolde led us at a near-run to the school infirmary. The nurse, a jittery red head named Cameron, took one look at Maggie and instructed us to lay her on the bed furthest from the door. She pulled a curtain around it, behind which she and Isolde disappeared to better examine Maggie.

Lawrence and I went out into the hallway. As soon as the door closed, I grabbed him by his shirt and shoved him against the wall. I pushed upward so that his feet dangled above the floor.

"What the hell is your problem?" he demanded.

"You." I lowered my voice. "I have a problem with sniveling little cowards who nearly get people killed." The rage boiling within made me tremble. "If she dies, I'm taking it out on your hide."

"You-you can't do that. You're a Warden!"

"Wrong. I can't kill you with magic. And if she dies, you're going to wish I could." I dropped him and he fell to the floor with a very satisfying thud. Scrambling up, he bolted down the hall and out of sight.

Turning, I braced my back against the wall, tilted my head, and rested it on the wood. I drew in and slowly blew out deep breaths as I gazed up at the high ceiling. By the time the infirmary door opened, I felt slightly less murderous.

"Mr. Dresden?" Isolde closed the door behind her.

"Is she all right?"

"Yes. Cameron thinks she only knocked her head and she'll be awake in a few hours."

"Cameron thinks?"

She winced at my tone. Harry Dresden, terrorizer of schoolteachers. "She's doing a more in-depth look right now but she believes that's all it is." She nodded at my left hand. "You should get that looked at."

Burns suck when you finally notice them. This one was no exception. Pulling back my sleeve revealed inflamed skin running from above my elbow to the side of my hand, with the burn being darker on my hand. Apparently, I needed to renew the spells on my duster.

"I'll be fine," I said, dropping the sleeve.

"No. We have some aloe that will help. Hold on." She went back into the room and came out with a white tube. "Pull up your sleeve."

I did so and she began smearing green paste onto my hand and arm. It smelled all right and the pain eased away. Just as she finished, Cameron came out.

"She'll be fine," she said. "Just a bump and some minor burns. Who did that to her?"

"Lawrence," replied Isolde, a touch of scorn in her voice.

Cameron muttered a rather unladylike word.

"I take it he's been a problem before?" I asked, all wide-eyed innocence.

"Don't even get us started," remarked Isolde. "He was recommended to us because of his strength in battle casting and his knowledge of botany. What no one told us is that he has the guts of a guppie." She screwed the cap onto the tube. "Where did he go, by the way?"

"He needed to lie down." And possibly change his underwear.

"Well, speaking of that, we should get you settled into a guest room."

"No. I want to stay with Ma-Ms. Reynolds." I knew I had said the wrong thing almost immediately. I was just supposed to be a hired P.I. Too much interest didn't look right. As well as mildly creepy. "I, ah, feel responsible. I should have brought backup."

The two women nodded, seeming satisfied with the explanation. Cameron said, "I don't think your presence is necessary. Though we do appreciate it. Ms. Reynolds would want you to get some rest."

I wanted to insist but I couldn't think of anything to say. So, I let Isolde lead me away.

She took me to a room on the top floor, where the teachers' rooms were located. It was small, furnished with a double bed, nightstand, wardrobe, writing desk, and a stand with an ewer and basin. My bag, which I had left in the billiards room, sat on the floor beside the bed. She lit the lamp on the nightstand with a whispered word.

"The linens are clean," she said. "And there should be water in the ewer. We prepped this room when Ms. Reynolds went to contact you."

"I see. It's, ah, nice."

"Sleep as long as you like. You shouldn't hear the children when they get up and classes begin. The kitchen is open to you and if you need anything, you have only to ask."

"Thanks."

"Good night, Mr. Dresden."

"Good night."

She left, closing the door firmly behind her, and I found myself alone with the one thing I wanted to avoid: my thoughts. I distracted myself for a little bit by taking off my duster and laying it over the back of the desk's chair. I washed the soot and smoke smell from my face and hands, being careful to avoid the burns. After that, I stripped down to my boxers and laid on the bed. Staring up at the ceiling, the thoughts crowded in and started yammering away all at once.

The boy had been disturbed. I was justified in what I did. But he was just a boy. Couldn't I have done more?

It was stupid to go in without Molly, Michael, Murphy, or, hell, even Thomas. Any one of them could have prevented Maggie's injury or the boy's death. Any one of them could have tipped the scales. But the fewer who knew about Maggie and the school's location the better. Right?

The Council was going to find out about this place eventually. If not today, then next week. Eventually, rumors and gossip would reach the Merlin's ears and then what? Would I be sent to arrest and help murder those who only wanted to help and who came up with a system that actually works? Where the hell is it written that you can only teach magic in a master-apprentice relationship anyway?

I sat up, scrubbing my face as the main thought, the thorn eating at me at all day, came to the surface.

Would Maggie ever stop hating me?

She had every reason to do so. There was nothing I could tell her to make what happened in Mexico all right, or easy to accept. There was nothing I could do that could justify twenty years of absence. There was no magic word to wash away the pain. Little girls need their fathers, right? Didn't all the shrinks say that was a girl's most important relationship, that which defined her outlook on life?

Back in her life barely twenty-four hours and all I could offer was...nothing.

And I thought of someone who could offer a little shred of hope that this wouldn't end in flames and screams. The one person Maggie might possibly listen to. Laying back, I somehow managed to fall asleep clinging to that hope.


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: Thanks to those who offered some great constructive criticism and thank you to everyone for your patience. So, lets check in on our characters, shall we?_

OoOoOoO

Maggie woke with a pounding headache. Groaning, she covered her eyes with her hand and tried to focus past the pain.

"Oh, good, you're awake," said a soft voice.

Looking through her fingers, she saw Cameron leaning over her. "Am I? Thought I was dead." Oh, ow, she thought. Maybe talking wasn't a great idea.

"No, you're alive, I'm afraid."

A score of feet tromped through a hall nearby. Maggie's room sat on the floor below the teacher's floor, so she was used to hearing children, but that was closer than normal.

"I'm in the infirmary?" she asked, letting her hand drop.

"Yes. We were afraid to move you again after we laid you down."

"What happened to Paul?"

"Isolde told me Mr. Dresden shot him."

"What!" She bolted upright. Pain snapped down her spine and she fell back onto the pillows with a groan.

"Let me get you something for the agony." Cameron bustled away to her table and came back in short order with a cup. "Okay, drink up."

Maggie took the cup. "Tell me what happened."

As she choked down the bitter contents, Cameron recounted the events of last night, ending with, "I think Mr. Dresden threatened Lawrence."

"Why's that?"

"He ran away in the other direction when Mr. Dresden came down for lunch."

"Ah." She handed back the cup. "Have any police been by?"

"No. It seems you made a clean getaway."

"Good. Where is Dresden now?"

"I don't know. Iantha was feeling well enough to come down and mentioned giving him the grand tour."

"I need to talk to him."

"You need to rest."

But Maggie was already getting up. The tonic hadn't quite kicked in and pain did funny things to her vision. "I'll be fine. Just need to go change clothes."

"Well, let me walk with you just so you don't fall down the stairs and break your neck." Cameron locked arms with her and together they managed to get to Maggie's bedroom with her only losing balance once.

"You sure you're fine?" asked Cameron.

"Yes. Thank you."

"All right. You know where you can find me." She left her and Maggie gratefully went into her room.

After washing her face and hands, she changed clothes. By the time she felt mostly presentable, the headache had reduced to a dull growl. She took her hairbrush and looked out the window onto the back gardens as she brushed out her hair. Movement caught her eye and she saw Dresden talking to the students. She couldn't see all their expressions but one of them looked up at him with a mix of awe and fear.

Oh, great.

Putting her hair up in a quick bun, Maggie half-ran, half-walked down the stairs and out into the gardens. The pounding geared up again but she ignored it.

It must have been mid-afternoon break. Usually, the students played games, swung on the swing sets, and stood in groups talking. But all of them were clustered around Harry.

As she came into earshot, she heard him say, "And that's why they call me the Pizza Lord."

"Cool," breathed one of the older students. "So, they come whenever you call?"

"Yeah, but I only call them when I need them."

A girl asked, "Can you show us how?"

"Oh, I-"

"No," said Maggie. "Whatever it is, no."

The students heaved a collective sigh and began to disperse as she approached, a few shooting around slightly guilty looks.

Harry looked at her with a funny look on his face, something almost tender, before smoothing his face and saying, "Ms. Reynolds, glad to see you up."

"So am I. I didn't expect you to corrupt my students."

He placed a dramatic hand on his chest. "Who, me? No. Seriously, though, they were asking questions." He lowered his voice. "I'm just a P.I., right?"

She looked at him skeptically when a wave of pain and vertigo made her waver on her feet and she closed her eyes. A soft hand cupped her elbow.

"Hey," said Harry, his voice thick with concern. "You okay?"

Snapping her eyes open, Maggie remembered she was supposed to be hating this man. "I'm fine." She snatched her arm away, the quick motion making her step back to keep her balance. "Cameron says you...took care of our problem."

Harry obviously didn't believe she was all right, but he nodded. "It was either do it or all of us get killed. It would have turned out different if it weren't for that bastard."

A few of the kids heard his statement and turned toward them, curious. Maggie waved for him to follow and they began to walk away from the play area into the small rose garden. They sat in a gazebo covered in climbing white roses.

"Why the hell did you take him along?" he demanded.

"He's a strong battle caster."

"Bullshit."

She scowled. "My school. My rules. My decisions. If you have a problem with that, you know the Way out of here."

He glowered back at her. "You two have a history."

"What we have is none of your business. What's important is that the problem is taken care of."

"Right. Because of him, it could have gone much worse. You could have-" He gritted his teeth and looked away. Maggie looked down and saw his hands were curled into fists so tightly, the knuckles turned white. "If something had happened to you, Paul wouldn't have been the only one to bite the bullet."

They sat in silence for a long moment. Finally, she asked, "Is this how you reacted when...I was kidnapped?"

He didn't answer, only glanced at her and looked away.

"I guess you took it out on the person who hid you from me."

She immediately knew she'd said the wrong thing. Harry tensed for a moment before springing out of the gazebo and striding away. He got to the mouth of the garden, stopped and, placing his hands on his hips, appeared to be concentrating on his breathing. A breeze rocked the branches of the bushes, whipping the scent of roses around them. After a minute or two, Maggie joined him on the path.

He didn't say anything at first but after a moment, he turned to her. "Feel up for a walk?"

"I'll need to scam some more tonic out of Cameron but, sure."

"Good."

"Why?"

"It's time for your dose of perspective."


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note: If I have gotten any details from the books wrong, please let me know. Not sure how happy I am with this chapter but it's what felt the most "real"._

OoOoOoO

Maggie felt relieved when they came out of the NeverNever. Their journey had a couple of legs to it, one of which landed them, for a dangerous moment, on the take-off strip of an airport.

"That's not supposed to be here!" Harry shouted over the whine of the plane taxing toward them. He tore a hole in reality, and yanked them through.

Her heart still hammered in her throat when they stepped onto a quiet street in a pretty neighborhood. Late afternoon sunlight streaked shadows over the road. Time could get a little funny in the NeverNever, sometimes.

"This way," Harry said, leading the way. A few kids on bikes pedaled by, glancing at them curiously as they went.

They came to a two-story house in the center of the block, the front yard neatly trimmed. He led her up the walk and knocked on the door.

A few moments later, it opened, and it took her a brief moment to recognize the man that gave her a lift to Harry's office. He leaned heavily on a cane but beamed at Harry.

"You're just in time," he said. "I was about to start the grill. Charity's got some steaks mari-Oh, hello, there." He nodded at her good-naturedly.

"Hi," she replied.

"Yeah, you've met Maggie," said Harry. "Mind if we come in?"

"Sure." He backed up to let them enter.

The house was clean but had that loving, lived-in look all good homes have. For a brief moment, Maggie's stomach lurched, and it had nothing to do with her mild concussion.

"Any of the kids or grandkids here?" asked Harry as they sat in the living room.

"Nope. Harry was saying he might be by, but he's busy with his new job. So, ah, what's-"

Footsteps came down the hall. "Michael," said a strong feminine voice, "who's here?"

"Harry and a guest."

A formidable woman (Charity?) came to stand in the doorway. She frowned at Harry, who grinned in what he probably hoped was an innocent manner. Maggie just bobbed her head. "Good afternoon, ma'am," she said.

Charity gave her a bare nod back before looking at her husband with a steely gaze. "Don't let him drag you into any nonsense, Michael."

Harry protested, "Charity-"

"I don't care—"

Michael cleared his throat. Silence fell. "Harry, how can I help you?" Charity rolled her eyes.

"I want you to tell Maggie what happened twenty years ago."

He raised his eyebrows. "Even I don't think I have the full story."

"You learned most of it from Sanya."

Michael studied him for a long moment. "Why don't you tell her?"

Harry looked away for a moment before returning his gaze to him. "She'll believe a Knight of the Cross."

"Former. I'm retired now."

Maggie stared at him in awe. She had heard about the Knights, but she never thought she'd be in the presence of one, albeit a "retired" Knight.

"I thought it was like the Marines."

Michael snorted and got quiet, his eyes unfocused, as if he were listening to a voice only he could hear. And maybe that was true. She shivered.

"Charity," he said, "why don't you let Harry help you get things ready for the grill?"

Charity looked ready to argue but just shook her head and walked out. Harry followed and they were alone.

Michael settled back on the couch. "You have to know, I only have the story secondhand. I was wounded long before you were kidnapped and I couldn't help."

"Who's Sanya?"

"A fellow Knight."

She thought about that for a long moment. "Okay."

"You understand that what I am about to tell you is the truth as far as I know it, relayed to me by someone who would not lie?"

"I do." This was starting to feel like some strange initiation ceremony and she shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "But start with where my mother...became a half-vampire..."

"All right. I was there for part of that." He took a deep breath. "Harry loved your mother more than I've seen him love anyone, but when he's on a case, he can get a little...focused. And when she smelled a story, Susan got, shall we say, very stubborn..."

OoOoOoO

Charity didn't talk to me for a full minute, just slapped a knife and some vegetables in front of me and went to stand at the kitchen sink. She only stood there, glaring into the backyard. I started cutting veggies for grilling.

You'd think after twenty years, the antagonism would've died down. I thought it had. But it had been a long time since I'd brought potential trouble to the Carpenter doorstep. I guess it brought back a lot of memories.

"Who is she?" asked Charity after a while.

"My daughter."

She turned, her mouth opened in a small "o". "How-?"

I told her the story and as I did so, she came to sit across from me at the kitchen island. When I finished, she covered my partially-scarred left hand with hers.

"That was a brave thing she did, coming to you," Charity said.

"She needed my help. That's all." The bitterness in my voice surprised me.

"She runs that school, doesn't she? She could have put her foot down and that would have been the end of it." She squeezed my hand. "Don't give up hope." She sat back, taking her hand away.

I blinked the tears from my eyes. "You think so, huh?"

"I am a mother."

"It's dangerous, you knowing about this."

"We have nothing to do with the Council and they nothing to do with us."

"Except for Molly. They still haven't taken the Doom off of her, you know."

"Well. I still think it's pretty safe. God will protect us."

You really can't argue much with that logic. Trust me, I've tried. I finished with the vegetables, arranging them on a large plate. We sat in silence for a long moment.

"Come," said Charity, "I need help with some other things."

She found me little jobs to do around the kitchen, giving me another as I completed each one so that I didn't have time to think. Just as I was about to tell her I didn't think the floor needed sweeping, I heard a loud, strangled sob. Turning, I looked down the hall in time to see Maggie rush out of the living room and out the door, slamming it behind her. I hurried down the hall.

Michael came to the entryway of the living room. "She ran out when I got to Susan's death."

I nodded and ran out of the house, down to the sidewalk. Maggie strode down the walk along the way we came.

"Maggie," I cried, jogging after her. My long legs ate up the distance and I caught up with her. "Maggie, wait."

She turned, tears streaking her face. "How—how could you-?"

"I, ah..." I swallowed. How many times had I asked myself the same? "She wouldn't have wanted—they wouldn't have stopped... There was a war..." I took a deep breath.

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I, most days." I shifted. "If you want to go home-"

"I do."

"Then let me take you. We'll avoid the planes this time."

She hesitated and for a moment, looked ready to say no. But she rubbed her face and nodded. "All right."

We traveled back to the House in silence, being careful to avoid any nasty surprises. It troubled me that my mother's stone would be out of date, but I felt stupid that it hadn't occurred to me before. Maybe I needed to bring it up to speed somehow?

It was night when we came to the front door. We stood on the porch, the silence filling the space between us.

I blurted, "Your ceiling is broken."

"Fire does that."

"No, the ceiling in your dining room. It doesn't reflect the sky. You should have your charms professor look into that."

She rolled her eyes.

I cleared my throat. "So..."

"I need time to think."

"Fair enough."

"I'll contact you if..."

I nodded. She shifted a little on her feet, looking as if about to say something else, then let herself into the House.


	11. Chapter 11

_I apologize for the long silence. Things have been a little crazy these past couple of weeks._

OoOoOoO

On Monday morning, I sat at my desk in my office and went through my mail, like any good business owner. See? I'm responsible. I frowned at the power bill for my apartment. I would need a new case soon. Not for the first time I wondered if I should get into something with a steadier paycheck.

A teacher maybe? I thought about Maggie's school and suddenly saw myself in long black robes teaching Defense of the Dark Arts. I smirked and moved on to the next piece of mail.

Heavy boots tromped down the hall to my door and I sighed, setting down an envelope in time for my door to swing open and Molly to stride inside. She slammed the door closed behind her.

"What the hell, Harry?" she demanded. "You brought her to my parents' house—you told Murphy what you were doing—but all I get is cryptic bullshit?"

"Hi, Molly. How are you? I'm fine. Please, come right in."

"Stop it. Why didn't you tell me?"

I sighed. "Because you have the Doom of Damocles hanging over your head and I didn't want to give the Council a reason to end you."

"That's my decision to make. Not yours. I'm not your apprentice, anymore!"

She was right. Molly, despite me, had grown up into a young woman assured in her power. She joined me on cases but most of the time involved herself in the club she helped run. If some of the light shows of that club weren't made with completely mundane means, no one complained. She was smart and strong.

"Molly," I said.

"No. You don't get to explain your way out of this."

"You're right."

"Damn straight I'm—what?" She stared at me.

"I said, you're right. I should have told you. But I still feel responsible for you, Molly. I've known you since you were a little kid."

"Um, right."

"You wanna sit down?"

"Sure." She sat and an uncomfortable silence filled the room for a moment.

"So. Your parents tell you?"

"Not exactly. I overheard them talking about it."

"Ah." Knowing Molly, she probably sensed something was up, called a veil, and went snooping. "So, uh, what's Maggie like?"

I gave her a brief rundown of Maggie's situation, concluding with, "I think she grew up all right without me."

Molly snorted. "If she did, she wouldn't have come looking for you."

I shrugged, toying with a letter opener. A question I had been wanting to ask her formed in my mind and just as I was about to ask it, a barn owl appeared with a small pop, dropped a large cream envelope onto my desk, turned tightly, and vanished with another pop. It happened so quickly we both sat in shock for a brief moment.

"What...the fuck," she said.

"Good question." I picked up the envelope, noting it was heavy, expensive paper. My name and address were written on the face in curling calligraphy. I slit it open and pulled out a card.

It simply read, in the same calligraphy:

Ms. Maggie Reynolds,

Headmistress of the Reynolds School of Magic,

Requests the honor of your presence at

The Annual Midsummer's Eve Ball

June 19, 8 o'clock

Formal dress required

Please RSVP

Beneath it was the school crest.

"What is it?" asked Molly. "What was with the owl?"

"The owl was an inside joke." I held up the invitation. "Wanna go dancing?"

OoOoOoO

_A Midsummer's Eve Ball with the former Winter Knight and infamous Harry Dresden in attendance? What could possibly go wrong? Stay tuned for the sequel, "And Now We Dance"._

_I am also contemplating a Thor fanfic, so keep an eye out for that as well if you're a Loki fan!_


End file.
